


Flowers and Bearing Grease

by Annegsp0983



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Edward being salty, Edward is bad at feelings, idk how to tag this, takes place during manga chapter 84, this has been kicking around in my wips for a while..., two dorks trying to figure shit out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:54:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23471269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annegsp0983/pseuds/Annegsp0983
Summary: So this takes place during the events in manga chapter 84 when everyone ends up back at Pinako's house.
Relationships: Edward Elric & Winry Rockbell
Comments: 6
Kudos: 24





	Flowers and Bearing Grease

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for tossing this random work out, but I rewatched FMA Brotherhood a few weeks ago and I HAD to write this.  
> Also, no idea how to tag this...if anyone has suggestions pls lmk!

All Edward Elric wanted was some peace and quiet. Peace and quiet and lunch. It wasn't much, but with everyone crammed in the small kitchen of Pinako Rockbell's home, peace and quiet was increasingly difficult to come by. He snatched up his plate, dodging an arm as Heinkel continued to fill the older woman in on the disastrous state of the country. That and try to drink her under the table...

Heinkel was going to lose that battle, quickly. Granny Pinako ran on a steady diet of tea and whiskey. More than once, Edward had wondered if she had manufactured a liver out of automail.

_Adults._

Edward scoffed a laugh, kicking the door shut. He started up the stairs, cursing himself. Wasn't he almost an adult? Technically? Kinda? He was already an important State Alchemist, so didn't that automatically elevate him to adulthood?

He strolled down the hall to the last door on the left. A door that in years past he didn't dare open. Grasping the doorknob, he checked to ensure none of his companions had followed. Edward already felt a bit guilty for intruding into this room without permission. The last thing he needed was for any of his compatriots to realize where he was sneaking off too.

He would never hear the end of it.

His cross-country trek with Heinkel and Darius had taught Edward one thing, well two things- adults drink way too much alcohol and spend entirely too much time worrying about relationships...or whatever. Too deep in his cup, Heinkel had began to wax poetic about being a 'young man just realizing what love was' one evening to Darius and Edward, and that was ALL Edward ever wanted to hear about that subject ever again.

Forever.

He turned the knob, scuttling inside the room, pushing the door closed with a quiet click.

Love.

_What a crock of shit._

He crossed the room, setting his plate down on a desk butted against the wall in the corner. Out of habit the teen peered through the curtains, seeing nothing but the rolling green hills dotted with sheep and lined with low rock walls and dirt roads stretching as far as the eye could see. With a huffed sigh, he scooted a few bolts and a hairbrush to the side, setting his journal down. He took a bite of sandwich, glancing at the notes hastily scratched out a week prior. There had to be a code or cipher in this mess. The notes made sense, but they didn't have the exact information Edward wanted.

Of course they would be written in code.

Edward finished his lunch, temples throbbing by the time he was done. The raucous laughter of too much alcohol consumed too early in the day pealed up through the floor. There was no way in hell he was going back downstairs. Not with a headache brewing and knowing Heinkel would be launching volleys about Granny Pinako's beautiful granddaughter.

Killing people was against Edward's personal code of conduct, but he was about to make an exception.

He got to his feet, stretching, the ache and tug of scarred flesh against machinery a familiar burn in his shoulder. His gaze wandered to the bed, neatly made, undisturbed since its charge had been whisked away on her own grand adventure.

Winry would beat the actual soul from his body if he touched her bed.

“Not like she's around to catch or kill me...” He grumbled, kicking off his boots then crawling onto the comforter. The scent was nostalgic and satisfying, a bit like flowers, some bearing grease mixed in. A scent Edward was used to.

*

For the past three days Edward had been sneaking up to Winry's room to eat his lunch, stare at the notes copied from Scar and Dr. Marco's possession until his eyes stung and his head throbbed, then curl up and take a nap.

On Winry's bed. Like some sort of creep...

Not THAT kind of creep.

Just the kind that used people's things without their permission.

Today was going to be no different. At least he wouldn't have to answer the endless lists of questions that Darius and Heinkel seemed to come up with in regards to his personal life. Why didn't anyone want to discuss the messy state of affairs Central was creating?Couldn't they discuss why a murderous bastard was not only let out of prison, but given authority to act as an alchemist again instead of Edward's (non-existent) love life? What about the whole 'Day of Reckoning' shit?

The next person that asked Edward if he wanted to settle down and raise a family was getting his right fist to the nuts.

If they didn't figure out how to counter the homunculus' plans, or figure out these notes, no one would be alive to worry about having a family or a girlfriend!

Edward flicked a bolt with his finger, staring at the same paragraph for far too long. Nothing was jumping out at him. He was missing something. He groaned, rubbing his left hand over his face. He had to figure this shit out and do it fast. He shut the journal, picking up half his sandwich. His gaze traveled to the window. His cursory glance today brought two figures walking up the road pulling a hand cart behind them. He scooted the chair so he could eat and watch through the gauzy fabric. After a few minutes, the figures became recognizable: two men. Excitement trilled through his veins. Anyone walking on this particular stretch of road had one destination in mind: Granny Pinako's.

Were these friends?

Enemies?

Patients of Pinako's?

What was in the cart?

Edward squinted, hoping somehow he could bring the travelers' faces into focus before he knew physiologically possible. Making a telescope would create too much light from the alchemic reaction and draw attention. He realized the usual good-natured conversation downstairs had died out. They must have noticed the travelers as well. Edward waited, impatiently, for the two men to draw nearer. He ducked back from the window, heart in his throat as the duo walked into the yard.

Those guys were military.

They were dressed in plain-clothes, didn't look like Central thugs, but Edward didn't recognize either of the men. He picked up his sandwich as they tried the front door. He had better eat now because he was in for a fight one way or the other. He ducked back from the window, pausing with a restless sigh for the incoming confrontation.

His arm was an absolute fucking wreck. Granny Pinako had done her best to get it functional, but without Winry, he was operating with less than half of his fine motor control. Winry was going to kill him when she saw him next.

What if she discovered Edward had been napping on her bed?

A part of Edward hoped the two guys were more of Kimblee's goons and he could get into a drag out fight with them and possibly destroy the bed so Winry would never find out he had been sleeping on it.

He chewed slowly, listening to the muffled conversation between the two men downstairs. Everything was calm and quiet. Heinkel and Darius must have found a good hiding spot. Edward started to take another bite of sandwich as the bedroom door opened. He froze in place, waiting to see if it was time for a fight.

Or in today's case, much to his surprise (and relief...maybe some terror), it would be time to die a painful death as Winry strolled in, pushing the door closed. She shucked off her jacket onto the bed, seemingly oblivious to the creases in the comforter...or the human sitting at her desk.

Edward didn't dare move. He was up shit creek with no paddle and his canoe was taking on water. All she had to do was turn her head 30 more degrees to the right and it was awkward reunion time. Winry tugged a closet door open, pulling out clothes, setting them on the bed.

Edward sat completely frozen, sandwich still stuffed in his mouth as Winry grasped the hem of her tank top and began to slide it up.

This was definitely the day he would die.

He watched, entranced as skin was exposed.

Feeling the intensity of his somewhat lecherous stare, Winry glanced over at her desk, pausing in her undressing. Edward was unable to move or speak, his synapses already overclocking at the most bare skin he'd every laid eyes on in his soon to be very short life.

Winry's eyes widened in disbelief.

Edward's heart rate surged, adrenaline coursing to all the wrong parts of his body. He choked out a muffled sound, finally biting down on the sandwich. Winry's hands clutched the shirt, yanking it back down.

He was beyond dead meat. She caught him looking.

Edward swallowed the bite of sandwich, a bit disappointed when he did not choke and die on the spot. Winry exploded in a fit of rage, reaching between her bed and nightstand, producing possibly the biggest wrench Edward had ever seen, but all he could do was stay perched on that chair, gaping at her with the previous 30 seconds of her tugging her shirt up playing in a continuous loop in his brain, as she stomped toward him, wrench in her grip.

Love may be a fuckin' crock of shit, but it was going to get him killed!

“Wa-wait! I can explain!” He lept from the chair as she swung.

“What are you doing in my room!!??” She caught the back of his right shoulder, knocking him off balance and everything went haywire.

The door exploded open, the two men drawing down pistols on Edward as he hit the floor, wrench crunching into the wood by his face.

“Who the hell are you!?”

“Don't MOVE!”

Heinkel and Darius boiled into the fray, grabbing collars, shoving pistols into the other men's faces.

“Miss Winry, is he an intruder?”

“Who are you guys and what are you doing here!?”

“Guys! Stop!”

“What the hell is this?” Greed appeared, dislodging Den's teeth from Heinkel's ass.

“Everybody calm down!” Edward yelled, propping himself up on his elbows. Winry's hand was clenching the back of his shirt collar, fingers burning holes in his skin. “Put your guns away, you morons.”

“I know these guys...” Winry trailed off, warily eyeing Heinkel and Darius.

“It's okay, they're with me.”

“Actually you're all with ME.” Greed corrected with a huff.

“Okay so who the hell are YOU guys?” Heinkel demanded.

“We're Briggs soldiers assigned to be Miss Winry's bodyguards. Who the hell are YOU?”

“They're my lackeys.” Greed interrupted.

“Didn't you guys work for Kimblee?”

“Not anymore.”

The circular argument of whom everyone worked for grew in volume. Winry got to her feet, clutching the wrench. Edward grabbed the last of his sandwich.

No good would come of this...

“Glad everyone is on the same side, but can everyone get out of my room!?” She bellowed, advancing on the group with the wrench. The group of men scuttled out into the hall and she slammed the door behind them. Edward sat up, watching Winry's shoulders tense, her knuckles blanch with her grip on the wrench. She turned on him, features contorted with worry.

“I was so worried...” She admitted, voice brittle.

_Shit_.

Edward scooted back, waiting...wanting the eruption of anger over grief. He despised when others cried, especially Winry. She worried her lower lip as it trembled.

“So-sorry.” He started, easing away. It was only a matter of time before she noticed the human-shaped imprint on her bed...or the ramshackle appearance of his right arm. “I'm glad your safe too...” He confessed, awkward smile plastered across his face. Winry's gaze caught his own, studying him for a few moments. She ducked her head, glancing at the bed, eyes narrowing. Her blue eyes snapped back to Edward, raking over his right arm, face pinching into a scowl.

“You know, as relieved as I am to see that you're alive, it doesn't explain what the hell you're doing in my room!” She exploded, stomping across the room, dropping the wrench.

“We-well I,” He scuttled back bumping into the wall. “This room is the best place to watch for intruders!” He explained in a rush. Winry grabbed the collar of his shirt, shoving him against the wall.

“That is no excuse for trespassing in my room.” She glowered.

Edward's skull bounced off the wall and stars scattered across his vision as Winry clocked him in the jaw.

Shit, she hit hard.

She released his collar, stomping back to the bed, snatching up another shirt. The rest of her tirade was cut short by Pinako's voice drifting up the stairs. Winry eyed him, face covered with conflicting emotions before stepping out into the hall to greet her grandmother.

Edward exhaled a shaky breath, rubbing his jaw, the faint metallic tang of blood in his mouth. He had really pissed Winry off this time. Thank goodness Alphonse wasn't here to witness the tirade. Then Edward would have to hear about it from his younger brother as well as getting shit glares from Winry. He clicked his tongue at himself, getting to his feet. He did his best to ignore Greed's leer as they explained their situations downstairs, getting on the same page.

Winry was strangely silent while making repairs and adjustments to his automail.

“Winry,” She glanced up, protective guard for the shin of his left leg in her hands.

“Hm?”

“I'm sorry.” Edward hesitated. He hated apologizing, especially when he had done something stupid that required an apology. Winry continued to reassemble his leg, hands quickly attaching parts like second nature.

“For?” She squinted at the bottom of his foot, slapping the side of his leg.

“Well...” Edward eyed the screwdriver in her grasp. This could get messy if he didn't watch his mouth.

“Leg's done. Feel okay?” She straightened, rolling her neck. He wiggled his toes, flexing the ankle.

“Like a million bucks.” He grinned.

“It should.” She spun the screwdriver in her fingers. “Arm next.”

“Yeah, sorry about my arm...” He grimaced, tugging his shirt off. Instead of getting an earful about how his arm was in shambles and how reckless he had been, Edward was met with silence. He cocked his head up, finding Winry staring at him.

More accurately, his torso.

He frowned, crossing his arms over his chest.

Why the hell was she staring at him? It wasn't like this was the first time he'd taken his shirt off around Winry, so what was the big deal? She shoved him back on the cot with a rough push on his chest.

“I'm sorry, okay?” He protested. She reached for his arm, eyes falling on the recently healed wound on his left side.

“What,” She reached out to brush her fingers across the scar and Edward pushed her hand away, hiding it under his forearm.

“It's nothing.” He lied, looking at the ceiling. Like hell he was going to admit to Winry that he almost died after his clash with Kimblee.

“Nothing.” She repeated, getting to work on his arm.

“Nothing.” He confirmed, jutting out his jaw.

“You're such a dick.” She muttered, slapping a pillow over his face.

“I think I have a great personality.” He grumbled from under the pillow.

“Right, because you're such a diplomat, Edward.” She set a portion of his arm on the pillow.

“Hey! I apologized.” He huffed.

“How could I forget? You keep reminding me every chance you get.” She spat, picking up the parts from their spot on the pillow. He yanked the pillow off his face, setting up. “Lay back down, I don't want to lose any screws on the floor.” He lay back, tucking his left arm under his head.

“I keep reminding you because I AM sorry.” He pointed out. She walked back over with several pieces, working in silence. “And I'm sorry I was in your room without your permission.” Her eyes flicked up to his face then back to her work.

“You better be.” She jabbed the screwdriver at his face. “So what really happened?” She asked, holding up a frayed support.

“I got into it with Kimblee and his goons.” Edward answered archly.

“Mr. Darius and Mr. Heinkel?”

“Yup.”

“They said Kimblee tried to kill them.” She reattached a strut.

“Kimblee will try to kill anyone, given the chance.” Edward barked a laugh.

“Even you?”

“I thought that part would be obvious...” He commented. “Look, no one is actually going to kill me or Al. We're part of their plans...”

“Sacrifices.”

“Yeah, that.”

“Sacrifices get killed, Edward.” She pointed out.

“Winry,” He sighed. “Stop worrying about it. I'll figure something out.” Her hands paused.

“Stop worrying?” Her face contorted. “How can you say something so careless?”

“Winry,” He chided.

“No. You're not allowed to 'Winry' me. Every time I see you and Alphonse, you're in worse and worse shape. What am I supposed to do when you come back in bits and pieces that I can't reassemble?” She cranked on a bolt for emphasis, sending a twinge of pain up his arm.

“That's not going to happen.” Edward grunted, tipping his head toward the blonde girl.

“And what about this?” She slapped her palm against his side. “This is more than just a scraped knee or a bloody nose.” She trailed, refocusing on her work.

“I have too many things I need to do to yet, so I don't have time to worry about getting hurt.” He huffed. “Besides, Al would whip my ass if I kicked the bucket first.”

“Maybe you should think about the ones who do have time to worry...” She murmured.

“Huh?”

Winry frowned, continuing her work in silence.

“How did you guys escape from Kimblee?” Edward changed the subject, deciding that if they continued the current discussion, he might blurt out something stupid, like how he was more worried about Winry and Al than his own safety. That maybe when this was all over (if he survived) how he would like to try out the apple pie recipe she had been working on...maybe just the two of them. He watched as she worked, crease between her eyebrows as she explained how their roundabout escape route brought them in contact with Edward and Al's father in Reole. Winry glanced over as he snorted, thinking about Hohenheim.

_Shitty old man..._

“You should go speak to your father.” She tugged him to a sitting position to work on the back of his shoulder.

Like hell Edward would ever do that willingly...

The screwdriver paused, Winry's forehead coming to rest on his spine. He shifted to glance over his shoulder, the shake of her head stopping him. Her breath puffed against his skin, drawing chills along his back. He tried to turn again, this time her arms wrapped around his waist holding him still.

“I promised...” She sniffed, tears dripping against his skin, sliding down his back. “So you can't look.” Her voice wavered and her arms tightened. Edward nodded, deciding in that moment that some promises were more important than others and even though he still thought love was a crock of shit, he was willing to give it a chance.

**Author's Note:**

> I love the salty awkward gremlin that is Edward Elric way too much! I also like to think he spends a decent amount of time in altercations weighing the options- do i get my ass kicked by this guy, or do I trash my him, my arm, and get my ass kicked by Winry later?  
> lol  
> dorks in love (even though they don't quite know it yet!)
> 
> Thanks for reading/comments/kudos!


End file.
